The Girl in Pajamas

Disclaimer: This is a fictional re-telling of a, somewhat, true event, that was told to yours truly in confidence. Names have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals who have inspired the characters in this story. So with those legalities out of the way, let us continue.

Mrs. Edwina Marmalade had never been to a hens party before, or so she swore. She also, admittedly, had never been with another man save for her dear late husband, Mr. Edward “Teddy” Marmalade.

“My dear Teddy, God rest his soul,” she always says, “till the day he passed, had never let me lift a single finger!”

Of course, what Mrs. Marmalade had not said was that Mr. Marmalade as the sole breadwinner, had also fancied himself to be the accountant, gardener and handyman of the Marmalade household to the extent, as per the old grapevine, of excluding Mrs. Marmalade on all matters of decision making. As an indirect consequence, it came to pass that Mrs. Marmalade grew to be a tad unversed with worldly affairs.

So it was that when Mrs. Marmalade first read the missive from her darling niece in which she had detailed the agenda of her older sister’s hens party, Mrs. Marmalade assumed that activity number 4, Sustainable Life Drawing was simply an art class with a theme of environmental conservation.

As the day of the Hens drew near, Mrs. Marmalade confessed she was rather excited to be going out again. You see, it was her first group outing in a very long time, probably since Mr. Marmalade first got sick.

Their group had 9 women altogether, Mrs. Marmalade, her older sister Edith, younger sister Eleanor, Edith’s two daughters, Holly the bride-to-be and Leah the maid-of-honour and Holly’s four bridesmaids whose names Mrs. Marmalade no longer recalls.

Mrs. Marmalade recounts being considerably impressed with all the arrangements of the day. For example, driving to their hotel in the city in a pink mini-van, being served sparkling wine upon check-in and lounging in a suite with artisanal decor. After a brief respite, the ladies had made their way along the narrow streets of Soho to reach their venue for the day.

By the time the women had savoured their afternoon tea, sipped delicious apple martinis and exercised their hips with some burlesque lessons, Mrs. Marmalade was feeling exuberant at finally understanding what all the fuss was about!

However, although, she didn’t say it out loud at the time, she remembered thinking it would be such a shame to quench the vibrant feminine spirits ignited by the martinis and the sensual burlesque by ending with a dull drawing activity. Nevertheless, she kept her thoughts to herself so as not to dampen the spirits of the suddenly giggling gaggle of girls around her.

As they sat at their desks that were laid out in a circle in a room reminiscent of a school classroom with their recycled drawing supplies and refilled glasses of martinis, the male model, dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants, elegantly sauntered in. His steps, which were in sync with the rhythm of the accompanying jazz music, only halted when they had reached the centre.

Mrs. Marmalade was initially confused and whispered to Leah, “I thought the theme was on sustainability.” A smirking Leah whispered back with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Yeah, sustainable fashion!”

With a pencil in hand and furrowed brows, Mrs. Marmalade focussed earnestly at capturing on paper the folds and creases of the young man’s shirt that were highlighted by a soft warm glow as he stood basking in the rays of the afternoon sun pouring in from the gaping window blinds.

She was just beginning to feel confident of her skills when suddenly, with a loud rip that coincided with the excited cheer of all the girls, the young man tore apart his clothes! Mrs. Marmalade was mortified or as Leah says, “Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets!”

After Mrs. Marmalade’s initial bewilderment had waned, she took in the scene in front of her with curious interest. The young man was standing haughtily in front of them with one leg propped up on a small footrest, both hands on his hips, pelvis pushed forwards and was in her words “as naked as the day he was born!” The girls and both her sisters, blushed in delight as the young man flirted with all the women, young and old!

She looked around to find that the drawings around her had all converged on a specific part of the young man’s anatomy, including, to her utter amazement, Edith’s! Still, Mrs. Marmalade chose to be the one to maintain propriety by focussing on drawing the man’s hands and not daring to venture her gaze any further than necessary which was absurdly difficult considering the object of everyone’s fascination was directly in her eyeline.

What was really bothering Mrs. Marmalade, however, was that she still loved her Teddy very much and, in her naive mind, ogling unabashedly at a strange naked man somehow constituted cheating him and her memory of him.

It was in that moment that she heard a tiny voice in her head. It’s all for science, Edwina! It was what Teddy used to say when she’d admonish him for bringing strange plants in the house for grafting and consequently muddying the kitchen floor. It’s all for science, Teddy. Mrs. Marmalade needed no further convincing and lifted her gaze from her paper to focus firmly on the young man’s appendage.

The first thought that crossed her mind was, it was rather small. She looked up at his face and noted that the young man wasn’t particularly eye-catching but he had a lean, well-built physique. As she continued drawing, an unwelcome image of him demonstrating his abilities forced itself into her musings and Mrs. Marmalade readjusted herself in her seat in a panic, breaking the tip of her pencil as a consequence. An amused glance from Eleanor told Mrs. Marmalade that she knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Here, let me help you grab another pencil,” said the young man while he moved from his position to help her reach out into her basket of drawing supplies beneath her desk. As he lifted himself to place a pencil, he got a brief glance of Mrs. Marmalade’s sketch, the one she was trying hard to hide at this point.

“Oh, what are you drawing now?” he asked.

Mrs. Marmalade was embarrassed and dared not look up, however, as he was waiting, with a resigned voice she responded “Your reproductive organ.”

“Wow, no one’s ever called it that before,” he replied.

Mrs. Marmalade looked up to see if she could detect the same trace of sarcasm on his face that she thought she heard in his voice but instead she found him in a strangely thoughtful expression.

Mrs. Marmalade felt a pang of guilt at her awkwardness. He was a young man simply doing his job and earning a living. Perhaps in all this time, being ogled at, called names by excited girls and spending hours at a time without clothes, some part of the crowds would have forgotten that he was also a human, a living creature just like her, a bag of flesh and bones.

With a sigh that melted away the last threads of impropriety and judgement, Mrs. Marmalade continued on her artwork with gratitude and appreciation.

As the class came to an end, the women and the young man now in a robe, huddled at the end of the room in conversation around more wine and hor d’oeuvres, speaking about art and marriage.

As Mrs. Marmalade proudly showed off her skills, the young man gave a nod of approval.

“That is very impressive, Miss…” he said.

“Oh, Mrs. Marmalade! But you can call me Edwina,” she offered.

“Very lovely to meet you Edwina! My name is Edward, but you can call me Teddy.”

At which point, Mrs. Marmalade promptly fainted.

When she finally came to, Mrs. Marmalade found herself in the middle of a dark room with sparkling coloured lights, loud music and raucous laughter. Young Edward, or Teddy was no where to be seen.

They were all at a club now. A tipsy Eleanor staggered up to her, shouting against the loud backdrop and pushing a glass in her hands.

“There you are, sleepy head! Come let’s dance!”

Mrs. Marmalade let herself get pulled by Eleanor into the sea of slithering bodies. The warmth of the brandy sliding down her throat helped clear her head a little. She thought back to the events of the day and especially those before she fainted. She couldn’t help but smile with the understanding that life may continue on but her dear Teddy would still find a way to watch over her in one way or another.

– The End –